


Eye of the Storm (Oliver Queen)

by Shels



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Nightmares, PTSD, i don't know how weather got into this, please give it a shot though, way too many storm references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 13:25:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10537395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shels/pseuds/Shels
Summary: Oliver has a nightmare and ends up opening up to you about his past.ORThe storm finally breaks and the reader is there when it does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for all the references to weather, it wasn't planned.

You fell asleep feeling warm and safe in the arms of a man you had fallen in love with, his arms around your waist and his subtle gently scratching your neck as a constant reminder he was there.

You woke up to the feeling cold and alone, the clock showed it was two AM. 

You sat up and looked around, that was when you saw his silhouette staring out at the stormy sky of the city he had promised to save, shaking ever so subtly that it almost seemed like he was blurry around the edges.

You knew better than to presume that he was simply admiring the view, you knew he must have had a nightmare or a flashback.

"Ollie," you whispered, not wanting to startle him.

He didn't say a word, in fact you weren't even certain that he heard you. Sometimes he got lost inside his own storms, so you needed to reel him out. 

You slowly got up, purposely walking louder than necessary to make sure he heard you. The last thing you wanted to do was startle him, he had enough horrors going through his head and he didn't need to believe he had to face them in your bedroom as well.

“Ollie,” you whispered, “I’m going to hug you from behind okay?” 

You knew by now that although he needed physical contact, touching him without letting know you were going to was not a good idea. 

“Ollie,” no one in his five years of hell had ever called him by that nickname, which was why you called him that whenever he got like this, to add another layer of security. Another proof he could use to remember that he wasn't there anymore.

“Ollie,” you repeated, “is it okay if I hug you from behind? It’s me, Y/N, just give me a sign so I know you've heard me Ollie.”

It was very subtle, but you definitely saw his head give a brief nod. 

“Okay Ollie,” you whispered as you closed the distance between the two of you.

You snaked your arms around his waist, feeling how tense his muscles were. You leaned your head against his back, trying your best to keep your breathing even as you knew that he would soon use your breathing as a blueprint for his own.

You stood there for while, you with your arms wrapped around him and him standing stiff as a board. Muscles stiff and tense, not showing any indication that you were even there.

Others may have tried speaking to him, coaxing him out but you knew better. You knew that he needed to find his way out. You couldn't calm the storm, only fix the damage as best you can and put in new infrastructure that stood a better chance of handling it.

And after ten or so minutes that very thing happened.   
At first he simply stopped being so tense, he leaned back into you and you felt his muscles release some of their tension. Then he slowly turned to face you and rested is head in your shoulder.

He melted into you and you didn't say a word, you just kept your arms locked around him. At first his arms limply rested around you, but then he began to hold you tighter. 

His posture changed from holding you to clutching onto you, you knew that waves were crushing down on him and it was horrible knowing you couldn't just throw him a life raft. 

Instead you became his rock, he clutched onto you and you made sure he stayed above water. It was only then that you realised the two of you wouldn't be moving to the bed anytime soon. 

So you slowly lowered the two of you down, “Relax Ollie, just follow my lead,” you muttered. 

The moment his knees hit the floor of your bedroom floor the storm broke. 

His shoulders shook as he poured his soul into you. Tears streamed down his eyes and sobbed wracked through his body. 

And you held him, you held him and didn't say a word. You knew better than to think there was anything you could say to make this even marginally better. 

There was no way to undo what he'd seen, change what he's done or stitch back the gaping wounds of his soul. 

But you could hold him and make him feel less alone. 

So you did, his arms clutched onto you as a everything hit him. 

Waterfalls crashed down on him. Tsunamis plagued his eyes. Hurricanes tore at his mind. His soul kidnapped by a whirlwind.

But the sad thing that no one can control mother nature no matter how hard they tried, they could just buckle down and pray that she leaves them a home once her wrath was finished for the day. 

So instead you were his shelter. His umbrella. His bunker. His windbreaker. 

After a while the storm stopped raining, so he just breathed. You took deep slow breaths and he copied. 

And then he started talking, it took you a moment to realise he was. 

And then you realised what he was saying. He was talking about the island, about the day he got shipwrecked there. And you listened, you listened to everything he said. They were like snow, each flake making an impact as he spoke. 

Sometimes his grip on you was almost painful as a snowstorm began, other times he was limp in your arms. His voice as quiet as sunlight when it first pierces the blanket of snow. 

And through out it all you didn't say a word, you never commented. You never asked a question. 

Sometimes he jumped times, he went from he island to Russia with no warning only to return to island a minute later. He just told you things as they came you just continued to shelter him from the snow, he may have been able to feel the cold but that didn't mean he had to feel each snow flake. 

Eventually even the snow storm passed. You knew he hadn't told you everything, but somehow you knew that you had braved the storm a lot longer than most. 

Slowly you got up and held out your hand, he took it without a word and followed you into bed. 

You got in first and lay on your back, he practically lay on top of you. His head resting right on top of your heart beast, your arms were around his back. 

It was only then that he addressed you directly and he only said two words, “Thank you.”

You knew in your heart that you could never control mother nature. You could never control the storm. But maybe you could just show him that mother nature was sometimes a gift, that warm summer days without a cloud in the sky did exist.

And you answered his statement just as you felt him begin to drift off, “Wait for spring Ollie, just hold on until spring.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that :)   
> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think :)


End file.
